Cyare (A Rexsoka SWTCW Fanfic)

38

Ahsoka hated paperwork. She was going cross eyed from the sheer amount of reports she had to go through. She started on what seemed to be the thousandth report of the day and paused. There had been a massacre on Dathomir. The nightsisters were gone. It was Dooku's work, apparently. Ahsoka sighed and bookmarked the report for closer inspection later.

She flipped through the next report, this one on the reassignment of the 212th. They would be merged with the 501st, both to give them a purpose without attaining a new general and to fill the gaps in the ranks left from Umbara. Was that really only three months ago? It felt like a lifetime away.

She checked the alterations to the chain of command. Cody had been demoted to battalion commander, but that still put him in charge of what was left of the 212th. Other than minor adjustments to command in what was left of the 212th, nothing much.

She looked at datapad one last time and gave a small sigh of relief. Only one report left, and it contained new orders for them. Ahsoka frowned as she looked at it though. This didn't come from GAR HQ. It came from the jedi council. She opened the file and began to read. Missions from the council always were... interesting.

Rex hated this. He couldn't hold his 17's right, and they trembled in his hands. He fired another shot at the target, and watched as black scoured the wall almost three feet away from his intended aim. He gritted his teeth and took aim again, trying and failing to try to use a lifetime of muscle memory to at least let him hit the dang thing. He sighed and looked at his bad hands, shaking and trembling.

It took all if his willpower not to chuck the blasters at the target. He doubted he would it it even then. He removed the chargeless power cells from the sidearms and dropped them on a table nearby, grabbing the next set of charges and starting again. He didn't realize he was crying until he couldn't see the target anymore. He still had yet to hit it.

The door to the firing range slid open and Ahsoka walked in. Rex slid down the barrier between the targets and himself. He dropped his blasters and scrubbed at his eyes. Useless. That was what he was. Completely and utterly useless. He couldn't even hold a stylus correctly, let alone his blasters. Broken. He was just a broken clone who couldn't even do the simplest of target practice.

Ahsoka crouched in front of him. "Rex?" He gritted his teeth.

"Useless. I'm a useless, broken clone." He grumbled, pulling at his fingers. Ahsoka's face softened, and she sat next to him. She didn't say anything, just sat there with him. "Can't even hit the damn target. Can't hold a kriffing stylus. Can't even... AARRGG!!" He yelled, throwing an empty blaster across the room.

Ahsoka took his hand in hers and looked him in the eyes, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I love you." She whispered. Rex ducked his head, hot tears of anger and frustration running down his face. She felt for the force bond with him and pushed everything she couldn't say through it.

Worry. Love. Sadness. Pain. She wrapped her arms around him and clung to him like a lifeline. Rex wasn't sure who was comforting who at this point. Then came words. Half-formed thoughts that tumbled though her head.

I love you it'll be ok I promise just have patience you mean everything to me you are not useless I love you don't you dare think of yourself as less than I don't care if you never picked up a blaster or a stylus or a spoon again I won't leave please stay I don't care how bad your hands shake I love you...

Ahsoka was crying too now, arms wrapped around him like a vise. Rex hugged her back, feeling his age. He wanted to curl up and hide like a cadet until the war was over and everything was ok. Ahsoka pulled her head out of his shoulder and pressed her lips against his, like it was the last time she's ever see him.

"I love you too, 'Soka." He whispered hoarsely against her lips. Ahsoka made a raspy chirp in the back of her throat. She couldn't find the words in basic, so she pushed them along the force bond.

Togruta biology notwithstanding, I wouldn't survive without you, love. I don't care about the war. I would rather make it official sooner rather than later.

Rex searched her eyes. "Are you sure Cyare?" He rasped slightly. Ahsoka made another birdlike sound.

Absolutely.

Rex wrapped his arms around her tightly so that she was curled in a ball nestled against his chest. Ahsoka stroked his arm gently, running her hand down the corded muscles down to his finger tips. She pulled his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss along the tips of his fingers.

"If you actually were useless," Ahsoka whispered, finally remembering how to use basic, "Then they wouldn't be sending you planetside with me and Anakin and Fives on Onderon to aid the rebellion there."

Rex jerked. "But I'm not cleared for active duty." His face paled slightly. He was relieved to be given a job, but that didn't mean he felt he was ready for combat. His back burned with the memory of the lightsaber cutting a burning path down it.

"Officially it's not a combat mission. It's a diplomatic affair. We're teaching the rebels to fight against clankers." Ahsoka supplied. Rex still seemed a little uneasy, but Ahsoka put a hand on his cheek gently, locking eyes with him. "It'll be ok. If there is combat, then it is classified as 'unforeseen events.'" She kissed him again and untangled herself from him and stood, offering him a hand that he took gratefully.

He stood and fished for his cane, which was leaning against the barrier not far away. Ahsoka stopped him and pressed a 17 into his hand. He frowned at it, but closed his hand the best he could around it. He raised it and fired again, and again missed. Ahsoka put a hand on his shoulder.

"Rely on the force for help." She advised. Rex looked down at her, confused, but did as she said nonetheless. Reaching out into the force, he pushed a little bit at the strands in and around his hands. He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

Ahsoka's hand tightened on his arm, and he opened one eye to look at her. She was grinning up at him. Rex glanced at the target and almost let out a whoop of triumph.

The bolt had hit the edge of the target.